Failing to resist the weight of the sun Sand dropped into the deathlike daysleep guarded by Rowana, Deep Throat, and Tyler in the bolt-hole Ramos had secured for the day. In his dreams he was greeted by the infamous newly awoken My Nightmare. She told him she had visited Olivetti the prior day in his wound induced torpor. My Nightmare demanded the location of Prince Gerald’s haven and threatened to cull through the ranks of the Carthians and the Black Doves’ allies until someone gives it up. Sand pointed out that the Carthians are unlikely to have that information and suggested instead that she focus on the Prince’s own covenant. Nightmare soon tired of his insolence and sent Sand spiraling into the depths of a nightmare knitted together from his own fears and shame. As the sunset Sand struggled through a storm of wolfen faced betrayers and broke into the surface of consciousness.
Deep Throat had spent the day busily scouting the Sabbat hideouts using Twilight Projection and the coterie present began to plan the evening. He had heard the Sabbat list off a handful of targets including the havens of many of the city’s kindred. Before they could share much information Ramos alerted them to someone sniffing outside the bolt-hole and after a brief investigation they find it is Jack. Tyler and the lupines shared notes and split company. Meanwhile Sand had begun calling Paul and Annabelle Isalene to warn them of the roving Sabbat. While on the phone with Annabelle she confirmed there was something breaking into her house right at that moment. Sand told her to hide herself and screamed at the coterie to get to the Bank (Annabelle’s club) as soon as possible. Believing the invaders were the Sabbat Tyler called in his gangrel strike team and he and Rowana took to the air and flew to the Bank as quickly as possible. Deep Throat and Sand jumped into their recently stolen suburban and drove as quickly as possible. Minutes from the club Sand got a phone call from Annabelle’s phone but when he answered it was the voice of My Nightmare. She cackled her delight at his panic and he spewed useless threats at her until she dropped the cell.
Rowana and Tyler circled and scouted the Bank looking for Sabbat and assessing the situation. Tyler flew inside, landed on a rafter and resumed human form. He saw a shadowed form flit from upstairs to the main floor and run downstairs. A hulking twisted form leisurely descended the stairs reciting a short poem in a crooked, sometimes trailing voice:
“He with a smile did then his words repeat; And said, that, gathering leeches, far and wide He traveled; stirring thus about his feet The waters of the pools where they abide. “Once I could meet with them on every side; But they have dwindled long by slow decay; Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may.”
Tyler caught its attention. Tyler pulled the pin on an incinerary grenade and silently counted as he exchanged banter with the thing. He heard tires skidding to a stop on pavement outside as he tossed the primed grenade to My Nightmare casually remarking “I’ll bet they didn’t have these back in your day.” Curious, the ancient nosferatu snatched falling grenade for a closer look and was treated with an explosion of wet, sticky fire. My Nightmare screeched in outrage as she flapped and fled the burning. Sand was the first in the room and added to the blaze on her with a dragonsbreath shot from his shotgun. Tyler’s gangrel ally and his ghouls and Deep Throat followed and My Nightmare fled to the basement where she managed to cloak before exiting out the back door after the fleeing Annabelle. Rowana had circled to the back to watch the exit and watched as My Nightmare flashed into view right in front of Annabelle now deep in the grip of Rötschreck. Plunging her hands into the daeva’s chest the ancient thing ripped her bones and organs apart. Rowana raced to intercept the hag with Deep Throat, Tyler and the gangrel allies on her heels. My Nightmare turned her old black eyes to Rowana and snapped from her existence taking Annabelle’s slacked form with her. Defeated, the coterie regrouped and Tyler gathered his wits and yelled at Sand “You said it was the Sabbat!”
With nothing further they could do at the Bank the coterie left Annabelle’s club to attend a meeting called by Prince Gerald. They arrived at an abandoned looking building and found an assortment of elders already deep in council. Among the dozen or so present were Latokrates, Sophe Peregrin, Mother Farka, Ignatio, Fa Jinhai, William Blake, Olivetti and Grant. Sand confronted the gathered elders his fangs protruding involuntarily in barely contained rage. Pacing he snarled out a report of their battle with the ancient Nightmare. Sophe’s famous composure slipped, her eyes grown wide as she listened to the fate of her progeny. With Sand’s outburst finished Deep Throat stepped forward and reported his findings. He explained to all present the coterie’s recent actions and took the council of his masters. When Tyler asked after Kahlil the coterie was told that the Kogaion and Prefect of the Ordo Dracul has of necessity remained neutral in the current political conflict. Upon hearing of Paul’s reluctance to abandon his charge Ignatio shared Sand’s concern and alerted the Axe Sworn to reinforce and assist him at the Locust Walk Library. The Prince reinforced his support for the coterie and told them he expected their attendance at the trial being held the night after next. He explained that his enemies planned to tie Marcus Revelle’s actions to his name and likely to the coterie. Gerald told them to be wary and prepared for anything. When they seemed unsure still, he motioned to a blank wall beside him. Jack stepped out from nothingness, apparently hidden by his own supernatural ability or some version of Obfuscate. “And if things all go to hell … well… you’ll still have a way out of sorts. My pack and another will be there to give the other kindred something to consider.” With that the Black Doves left the Prince’s impromptu court with Grant in tow.
Deep Throat slipped out of his body and following Sand’s direction scouted the crypts of House Machten. With careful attention he spied the hidden ways into deeper chambers and heard ahead My Nightmare’s caressing voice to Annabelle. “Tell me, my sweet dumpling. Tell me!” And after a pause and an unintelligible response, “Deeper then! Deep then!” and muffled screams trailed Deep Throat as he retreated and joined the others. The Black Doves prepared to assault the ancient Nosferatu again, this time on her own grounds.